"You must give up all such nonsense. I am not going to deplete my brigade, at this most critical time, by letting everybody go home who takes a fool's notion into his head that he wants to. According to law I am obliged to discharge all one year's men when their term of service expires; but they shall never get out of my lines. I'll conscript them as fast as a provost guard can catch them."
The general settled back on his elbow again and looked at his visitor as if to inquire what he thought of the situation. Rodney thought it was dark enough, and showed what he thought by the gloomy expression that came upon his face. He gazed down at the cap he was twirling in his hands and said nothing. The general relented.
"I don't want to be hard on you, Rodney," said he, speaking in much the same tone that a kind and indulgent father might use in reproving an erring son, "but can't you see for yourself what would happen to us and our government if we should weaken our armies by discharging troops at this juncture? The enemy has a hundred and forty thousand men in our front at this minute, and more coming. Memphis is taken, New Orleans has fallen, the railroads, except those that run south of us, are in Halleck's possession, and if the enemy along the river moves quickly, the troops we have sent to fortify Vicksburg will not have time to lift a shovel full of dirt before the Mississippi clear to the Gulf will be lost to us. I tell you the situation is critical in the extreme, and if we don't look out, and fight as men never fought before, the Lincoln government will have us in the dust in less than two months. I'll not let a man of you go, and that's all there is about it."
The general puffed vigorously at his pipe and looked as though he meant every word he said. Was this the man who had promised on two different occasions that he would lend Rodney a helping hand if the opportunity was ever presented? Discouraged and perplexed as he was, the boy could still think clearly enough to draw a contrast between this arbitrary action of a so-called government, which claimed to be fighting for the rights of its people, to do as they pleased and the course pursued by the Union General Lyon at the battle of Wilson's Creek. Rodney learned through some prisoners his regiment captured (and history to-day confirms the story) that Lyon had seven thousand men when he reached Springfield; two thousand short-term men demanded their release and got it; and the Union commander went on and fought the battle with five thousand. Perhaps the old government was not quite so bad after all.
"But you see, sir," said Rodney, after a moment's reflection, "my comrade and I do not come under the terms of the Conscription Act. We are not yet eighteen years of age."
The surprised look that came over the general's face showed very plainly that that was a point that had slipped his mind entirely. The boy had him there, and he hardly knew whether to laugh or get angry over it.
"And do you intend to take advantage of that provision of the Act?" he inquired.
"We'd like to, sir," was all Rodney thought it prudent to say in reply. His superior was nettled, and the boy wanted to leave him in good humor and get out of his presence as soon as possible.
"That settles it," said the general, getting upon his feet and knocking the ashes from his pipe in a manner which seemed to say that the interview was at an end. "I'll take pains to see your colonel, but I do hope there are not many in my command whose ages are under eighteen or over thirty-five. However, I may be able to infuse a little patriotism into them, and shall have something to say about it in a general order."
"I thank you, sir, for the assurance," replied Rodney.